


Death Bed

by pipecleanerFlowers



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-08
Updated: 2011-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-11 06:09:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2056767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pipecleanerFlowers/pseuds/pipecleanerFlowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Out of all the things that would have him confined to a bed, a simple human cold did the trick. Kid/Liz.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Death Bed

Liz frowned, watching as Death the Kid tried to hide his hacking coughs from her. Every so often while going through his morning routine of making breakfast for the two sisters, he'd turn away and sneeze into his elbow, then straighten himself and continue pouring perfectly round circles of pancake batter onto a skillet. Liz had to applaud his effort at making everything seem normal enough. Even his excuse that he hadn't dusted in a while was plausible since she knew he descended into a coughing fit whenever they investigated musty old rooms on missions. But really, she knew he was strict enough to dust everyday.

"You need some cough syrup for that," Liz said bluntly after the eleventh sneeze. She grinned, noticing that he had been alternating elbows to sneeze into so that there would be some semblance of symmetry to his sick state.

Kid regarded her coolly, momentarily looking up from the skillet, and cleared his throat before responding, "That won't be necessary, I'm fine."

Always the eloquent one, Liz thought to herself. She had half expected him to say "find" instead of "fine" with the way he had been talking earlier that morning, mumbling to himself about measuring exact ingredients and making ridiculously circular pancakes. "Whatever you say, Kid."

Again he sneezed, this time into his left elbow. She smiled at him as she bit into another forkful of her shortstack. She had poured maple syrup all over hers while Patti had gone crazy with the whipped cream and chopped strawberries she had found in the fridge. Patti had already finished hers and was now in the other room watching cartoons.

It had only been a few weeks ago that the two sisters had found out about Kid's quirky talent in the kitchen. Since then, he had started making them breakfasts good enough for a five-star hotel buffet spread. Except today, Liz wasn't so sure he could be trusted around food.

"I'll finish that for you, why don't you sit down and eat?" Liz offered, pushing herself off her stool on the island.

"Oh no, I'm almost done. One more to go," he insisted.

She frowned. "C'mon, I'll make it as amazingly symmetrical and circular as possible!" Liz never thought she'd be bargaining with pancakes with him, but it was worth the shot.

"No, no," he refused adamantly, carefully pouring the last spoonful of batter onto the skillet. "As much as I appreciate your offer, I'm certain I can do this by myself, Liz. Have you ever flipped a pancake before?"

Well, he had a point there. "Alright, I guess I'll learn next time so I can help out."

"There's really no need to -" A rogue sneeze nearly caught him off-guard, but as always he returned to his straight posture and cleared his throat, trying to keep what little dignity he had left.

Liz was just trying not to laugh.

"I think you need some rest," she finally said "Flip that pancake over and I'll bring your food up to you when it's all done."

He gave her a weak glare, not exactly willing to argue with her, and sighed. "Alright, fine."

He shuffled out of the kitchen, the fluffy black slippers the sisters had gotten him sliding noisily on the tile floor. He was always complaining about how cold Gallows Manor was, so they figured it was a fitting gift, especially because he never complained about his freezing feet anymore.

Liz stared at the skillet, wondering vaguely how she'd know whether it was done or not. She shrugged, sitting back down, and decided to just stare at it until it seemed okay. Kid normally tested it with the flipper-thing - did he call it a spatula? - so she would do the same.

After getting the pancake onto his plate, making sure they were all neatly stacked into a perfect pile and drizzling chocolate syrup on it in the pattern Kid thought was the most beautiful, symmetrical way possible, she put it on a black tray with the increasingly-familiar skull symbol and took it up to Kid's bedroom. By the time she got there, he was sitting in the centre of his huge bed, arms folded across his chest, back against the headboard, and quilt up to his waist. She put the tray on his lap, propping it up with the stand it had over his legs.

"Thank you, Liz," he said, and she could tell that he was trying to keep his I'm-totally-fine-what-are-you-talking-about act up. "This was highly unnecessary, but I haven't been served breakfast in bed before so I guess this can be a new experience for me."

Liz wasn't buying it. "Here." she shoved a glass of water and two pills into his hand. "Swallow those, you'll feel better."

"I'm find!"

And there it was. "You can't even pronounce 'fine,' Kid," she said, trying to suppress her bubbling giggles.

There was a moment of silence. Kid stared at his hands, which had fallen into his lap. "I call a do over."

Liz couldn't help it. A wide smile broke out over her determinedly stern face. "You really live up to your name, you know that Kid?"

He was ignoring her, clearing her throat and sniffling and trying to pronounce "fine" right.

"Fine...d. Damn. Uh, ahem... Fine...d. Argh!" Sniffle. "Fine...d. Oh but I was doing it so well earlier!" he whined.

It was pitiful, really.

"Just eat your breakfast and rest up. I'm sure it's just a twenty-four hour flu or something."

He frowned, giving her a look that crossed between helplessness and perseverance. "Alright, I'll eat."

Liz sat herself down on the edge of his bed, watching him slowly eat his pancakes. It was halfway done when his eyes widened.

"One side... One side of my nose is blocked and not the other!" he panicked, a nasal tone covering his normally cool and collected voice.

Liz nearly laughed at him. "You keep calm, okay? Do you have a medicine cabinet?" He frantically pointed to his ensuite bathroom. Liz told him to wait a second while she searched for a nasal decongestant. Finally finding the familiar blue jar of the rub she was looking for, she made her way back to Kid's room.

"This'll make it feel better, you'll be able to breathe again," she assured him, taking some on the tips of her fingers and applying it around his nose and neck. "Now pull your shirt up. It needs to go on your chest too."

He obliged, though with reluctance and a slight blush that unevenly marred his aristocratic features. Though Liz would never tell him that. His skin was hotter than usual, normally being quite cool in comparison to hers. He was definitely ill.

"I swear I'm not that sick!" he insisted when she began slathering a large amount of the rub on his chest.

"Of course you are. Just because you're not human doesn't mean you can't get sick like one," Liz said, making sure her strokes were symmetrical. "And, just a reminder, I won't play nurse every single time this happens. You have to take care of yourself too."

"Okay, fine...d, damn!"

His eyes were beginning to get droopy from the smell of the rub, and Liz took away the tray of food so he could slide comfortably into his plush sheets. She smiled apologetically at him.

"You know, we could spend the day outside. You've built a really pretty garden and the fresh air will do you good."

"But Patti will see me..." Kid moaned. "And that's..."

"Indecent?"

Kid nodded. "Exactly!"

"You realize we've seen worse, right? Patti won't care." Kid gave her a look, and Liz wasn't sure whether it was pleading or irritated. "Okay, fine," she said. "If not that, then at least get some sleep. I'll take care of everything till dinner."

"Thank you."

"So you promise you'll sleep?" Liz asked sternly, using her "big sister" tone.

"By everything, you mean...?"

"I asked first, Kid."

"Yeah, but your answer influences my answer!" he said, ever the diplomat.

She was beginning to get exasperated. "Alright, by 'everything' I mean Patti and the dishes from breakfast."

"You forgot about me!"

Liz rolled her eyes. "You were implied."

"An implied priority?"

"Yeah."

"Oh."

"Are you... disappointed?" Liz raised her eyebrows, a little surprised at the depressed reaction she had received.

"A little, yes."

"Seriously?"

"Do I need to repeat myself?"

"No, but it's funny!" she exclaimed. "I mean, this is you we're talking about!"

Kid frowned. "Well, make me a voiced priority," he began in his nasally voice, "and maybe I won't be."

Liz smirked. "Okay, deal. Now get some sleep, I'll be back later with some tea or something."


End file.
